Review: Unsticky by Sarra Manning

Title: Unsticky

Author: Sarra Manning

Rating: 5 Stars

It's not often that a book takes me completely by surprise. When I cracked open the spine of Unsticky, I knew what I was getting into - a modern-day "Pretty Woman" if you will. And yet, despite knowing what was to come, I was continuously blown away by this novel; by its charm, by its wit, by its complex characters, by its intriguing dialogue...everything, from the first word to the last period enthralled me. In fact, it's safe to say that Sarra Manning had me completely be-spelled. Manning's novels are always un-put-down-able, but this story had an ethereal quality all of its own. I dare you not to fall in love with this book; it's one challenge you won't even want to attempt.

I won't lie: the premises of Unsticky is, well, sticky. Grace, the protagonist of our tale, is massively in debt, working for the fashion-world (and being massively underpaid), and simply cannot keep a relationship going longer than three months. After being dumped - yet again - on her birthday, Grace is dragged off by Vaughn, a rich older man who tries to make her day a little brighter. It's not the last she'll see of Vaughn, though. In fact, the smooth-talking stranger (who is loaded with money), has a proposition for Grace: to become his girlfriend for six months, accompanying him on ventures to sell art. Grace, initially aghast at the lowly prospect of being paid to both spend her time with and have sex with this man, slowly begins to change her mind on the issue. After all, with her life stuck in a rut and her bills only piling higher, what does she have to lose? And, just as Grace hopes, Vaughn's proposition does change her life around. For better or for worse, she's still not entirely sure...

I'm going to get straight down to it: Sarra Manning takes a seemingly taboo topic and makes it work. And I don't even mean the characters. For me, what makes this situation so startlingly relate-able and downright thoughtful is the fact that Manning leaves no stone unturned on her journey to create this tale. Obviously, the most glaringly evident issue that this situation presents is the monetary aspect of it. Grace is being paid to spend time with, organize events for, and sleep with a man eighteen years older to her. "Ick!" is what we should all be saying, but truly, Vaughn makes you swoon. And even if he does, Manning brings up the ethical question of whether or not this situation is really okay, or even all that fair. Vaughn, as the One With The Money and the One With The Legal Contract clearly has the upper-hand in the relationship. It's a doomed union from the start, only because of this imbalance of power. And yet, how utterly fascinating is it? After all, these types of relationships are only all-too-common in the media today, but I love that Manning is able to take such a controversial topic, reveal how love can be found within it, and never brush aside the messy realities this situation brings.

Manning continues to bring up the importance of money - only because Vaughn has so much of it while Grace doesn't - throughout the novel. For me, seeing the subtle changes in Grace's life as money comes and goes played huge roles in defining her character. Grace, like most chick-lit heroines, is utterly endearing; refusing to pay her bills, brought up by her grandparents, besotted with the fashion industry, and struck by a terminal illness of binge shopping. Although she seems to be relatively shallow from the surface, her intelligence bleeds through the page, coming across in her sharp wit and her fierce determination to win ground when it comes to Vaughn. While Grace is - naturally - intimidated by the opulent lifestyle she now finds herself a part of, she meets each challenge with courage, slowly overcoming her own fears as her relationship with Vaughn progresses. Additionally, while she and Vaughn butt heads more than once - after all, Vaughn demands that his every command is fulfilled - theirs is an arc that continues to delight as the story progresses, journeying from stiff acquaintances to comfortable friends. It's a slow, but rewarding, adventure, filled with many memorable arguments, inexcusable words, and tender moments. Ultimately, Manning truly hits the nail on the head in capturing the complexity of their relationship, from its strange start to its unlikely meaning. 

And what about Vaughn? Where do I possibly begin with this exasperating, enthralling man? Vaughn is, I suppose, an alpha-male in nearly every regard. And yet, I hesitate to slap that label upon him. Instead, I find him to be much more of a perfectionist, detail-oriented and a stickler for schedules. Vaughn merely has so many layers to him. As we get to know him better, we see sides to him that we've never seen before, but that never discounts the original angles we met him at either. Manning ensures that we are aware, constantly, of Vaughn's mixed nature: of his demands, but his charm; of his distance, but his insight. Easily one of the most intriguing aspects to Vaughn is his utter belief in Grace. Grace, whose parent-less upbringing has left her a mess; Grace, who lacks the backbone to stand up for herself; Grace, whose confidence level is at its lowest point. And, somehow, despite the difficulty of living with Vaughn, Grace begins to change, discover, and believe in the newer, better version of herself that Vaughn demands she put forward. Although their interactions are prickly at best, it works. Vaughn, too, is slowly changed by Grace, the man he hides underneath his layers slowly emerging. While Unsticky seems to contain that classic route of a significant other changing their partner, in reality, all the growth that these characters experience comes from within. It is never an easy or even a neat path. Often, the journey is plain difficult to watch unfold, but it's that brutal honesty that I can count on with Manning and that I come back for, every time.

Even if Unsticky weren't a love story, I would have loved it. Of course, the budding romance between Grace and Vaughn is tragically beautiful; sticky, sexy, and sweet. Yet, it is the individual growth - it is the people that these characters grow into after they walk away from each other - that makes this such a remarkable novel. I find that there is no dearth of "troubled" pasts in literature today, but Manning throws two seemingly normal people into an outlandish scenario and spins their tale magnificently. Moreover, I appreciated that the "secrets" hiding in Vaughn and Grace's closets were not so out-there as to be depressing. I cannot count the number of times I've seen messy pasts revealed to be drugs, rape, cancer, or some other form of emotional scarring. It's not that Manning's characters aren't emotionally broken - because they are - it's only that their pasts aren't as shady or different. If anything, Manning perfectly portrays that even the smallest of instances - a mother in another country, for instance - can grow and change a person's psyche incredibly.

If you're a fan of real character depth, messy relationships, or even unlikely affection, then Unsticky is not to be missed. While all her stories are compulsively readable, impossible to drag out as they consume your life so completely, this one was utterly flawless. In fact, I just want to take the day off tomorrow, snuggle under the blankets, and re-read this from cover to cover. It's that good. I just don't know how I'm going to possibly get over my book hangover from this one now...

ARC Mini-Reviews: Ink is Thicker Than Water by Amy Spalding & Love the One You're With by Lauren Layne

Title: Ink is Thicker Than Water

Author: Amy Spalding 

Rating: 4 Stars

Release Date: December 3rd, 2013

Amy Spalding tore down any preconceived notions I may have had about the content of her novels with her debut, The Reece Malcolm List, which stunned me with its honest voice, unexpected depth, and realistic portrayal of family. With Ink is Thicker Than Water, Spalding weaves an even more complex family dynamic with yet another narrator whose voice is spot-on. It isn't nearly as much fun as her debut is, full of its musical cast, but its messages are just as - if not more - important.

Kellie Brooks has never had a nuclear family or, for that matter, a normal life. Sarah, her older sister who has both beauty and brains, is adopted and her hippie mother and step-dad own a tattoo parlor. When Sarah turns eighteen, however, Kellie's "normal" begins to change. Not only is her sister meeting with her biological parents, discovering just how crazy her adopted family really is, but Kellie's best friend has abandoned her for a popular crowd and her father's disappointment weighs her down like lead. Moreover, Kellie is experiencing her own kind of change, complete with a college boyfriend and a new spot as a writer for the school newspaper. As Kellie navigates the turbulent waters that is her life, she'll soon realize that "normal" isn't what society dictates, but rather what you make of it yourself.

Ink is Thicker Than Water is a messy story, often with too many story arcs, but Spalding gives each ample attention. Whether it be Kellie's complicated relationship with Oliver, which is realistically drawn with these two setting boundaries and finding the courage to discuss their relationship or Kellie's relationship with her sister as the two must re-learn how to become a family when both are undergoing drastic changes in their lives, Spalding keeps her characters flawed, but her resolutions realistic. Moreover, I particularly love that Kellie discovers that it is okay to change. As a junior newly joining the school newspaper, previously underachiever Kellie finds that she harbors passions and ambitions and actual dreams for the future and, moreover, that she no longer wants to be the girl she always was; she wants to be someone different. For me, witnessing Kellie, alongside her sister and mother slowly uncover new truths about themselves and the lives they lead was a shockingly well-written growth arc. Additionally, a family with tattooists and adopted siblings isn't common, but Spalding writes them in such a friendly, relate-able manner that it is impossible not to see them as the new "normal" as well. With her sophomore novel, Spalding re-defines what it is to be normal, such an integral theme as teenagers rarely think their lives are going as planned or are as normal as they should be. With Spalding's story being pushed out into the void, however, there is no doubt in my mind that this is one tale that will connect with every reader, regardless of age and, moreover, regardless of family.
 

Title: Love the One You're With (Love, Sex, & Stiletto, #2) 

Author: Lauren Layne

Rating: 4 Stars

Release Date: December 9th, 2013

I've been trying to figure out what exactly it is that makes Lauren Layne's novels work so well for me. I do think her romantic plot lines are a little too familiar, and yet, aren't all of them? For me, what puts Layne on par with other contemporary romance writers I've enjoyed, such as Julie James, is the fact that she writes about women who are finding their way in life, either by re-creating themselves or putting themselves out there in new and terrifying settings. Grace, in Love the One You're With, is turning over a new leaf after she finds her boyfriend of nine years cheating on her. But, as Grace swiftly realizes, molding herself into a new version - Grace 2.0 - who is strong and sassy instead of kind and meek, is not as easy as it seems. What I love about Love the One You're With is the fact that Grace discovers, over the course of the novel, that who she is isn't defined by mere adjectives; she isn't just Grace 1.0 or Grace 2.0, she's really everything in-between too. For me, the fact that Layne writes strong, independent women who don't live their lives in boxes or around the schedules of men make her books feminist, enlightening, and simply kick-ass.

One of my favorite aspects of this novel, however, was the fact that Grace was forced to deal with a new inclusion into her friend circle. It has always been Julie, Grace, and Riley, the three ladies and their romance articles, but on a short leave from work, Emma joins their group and the confusion this throws into Grace's life is perfectly depicted. For perhaps the first time, Grace realizes that even the friend circles she assumed her molded in place can change - and do change even as these women change throughout their lives. It is a surprisingly realistic portrayal of friendship - tight, loyal, but messy too.

When it comes to the romance, though, what draws me in the most is the fact that these are wealthy, successful women with ambitions which levels out the playing field so that there is no economic dependence whatsoever. Moreover, the healthiness of these relationships shines through in their mutual respect for one another. Jake and Grace hold each other in high regard, which propels them to start off with friendship before taking their relationship any farther. It makes for tantalizing tension, but the pay-off is worth it (though perhaps the cheesy ending isn't). Ultimately, however, while I adore the romances Layne writes, all contemporary adult novels begin to blend together after awhile. Nearly all the characters are similar, as are their romances, which makes the notable differences Layne inserts into her stories all the more integral. Needless to say, I cannot wait to read whatever Layne up her sleeve next!

Review: Come See About Me by C. K. Kelly Martin

Title: Come See About Me

Author: C. K. Kelly Martin

Rating: 4.5 Stars

I've taken to fleeing inside a closet whenever I hear the term "New Adult." It's a shame as I believe the genre has a great deal of potential, particularly because of the age group it's confined to. Thanks to hordes of mis-marketing when the term was first coined, however, New Adult will forever be associated with vapid heroines, hunky heroes, and dramatic situations. Not only does the genre manage to completely gloss over the complexity of the first adult years, but it also becomes increasingly predictable, the final pages of a book more cloying than satisfying.

Come See About Me, on the other hand, is a far cry from the dozens of novels hitting shelves these days. From beginning to end, this book drowns you in a sea of complex emotions, its prose evocative and strangely compelling, despite its subject matter. Moreover, while Martin's stark realism can be difficult to swallow at times, it is a much appreciated slap into reality. Come See About Me won't be a book for everyone, but as a reader who actively seeks gritty novels that are deserving of their "realistic" tag line, this novel was a godsend.

Martin's first foray into adult literature is not a simple piece to get into. Within the first few chapters of this novel, we are introduced to our narrator, Leah, and the heart-wrenching realities she must face every day. Bastian, Leah's long-time boyfriend, has only recently been killed and, unable to cope with his sudden death, Leah has moved to a small town on the outskirts of Toronto known as Oakville. I wouldn't be surprised if many readers were turned off by a sample of this novel, merely because these first pages are hard to read. Martin's writing pulls you into Leah's head, which is a dark and depressing place. And while Leah is drowning in emotion, caught up in her grief and pushing the rest of the world aside, her feelings seep into your skin.

For me, this is a testament of Martin's writing skills. Although I can't say I enjoyed the beginning of this novel, it was powerful, ensuring I was wholly invested in Leah's tale. And, don't you doubt it, Come See About Me is Leah's story, through-and-through. While the synopsis for this novel relies heavily on the romantic components, in reality, the romance is an after-thought. Martin's novel instead explores Leah's gradual healing process as she learns to cope with her grief and move on into the future - on her own.

I feel as if I cannot emphasize this point enough. I'm so used to seeing couples in books heal one another that it was such a pleasant surprise to see good-old time and thought heal Leah. Following Bastian's death, Leah is unable to move forward and the worry of her close family and friends - their expectations, really, that she get on with life and not allow this event to derail her future - is suffocating. Instead of complying with their wishes, Leah moves away to be alone and though her apathy to the world still exists, it slowly begins to wear away. Martin paces Leah's growth impeccably and, moreover, I particularly love the small decisions Leah begins to consciously make, whether it be reviving a friendship she has neglected or just forcing herself to eat dinner with her neighbors. Though Leah doesn't want to let go of Bastian or his memory, she does - however subconsciously - want to live again and the slow manner in which she re-discovers pieces of herself is beautiful.

Come See About Me also offers a surprisingly diverse cast: old lesbian neighbors, a Korean best friend whose younger sister breaks under the expectations of an immigrant household, an African American family who is wealthy and educated unlike the typical stereotype. Best of all, though, these inclusions never feel forced. Whether it be a traumatic plot thread or these atypical characters, their presence throughout the novel never jolts the arc of the story and only enriches it. Moreover, they contribute greatly to Leah's own growth and acceptance of her life after Bastian's death and the friendships that Leah sustains are real; messy, often difficult to maintain, but true in their affection.

Nevertheless, what I love most about this novel is that there are no heroes in it; just normal people doing their best to live with what's been given to them. Leah never romanticizes Bastian and though the two had a healthy and sustainable relationship, she acknowledges his flaws and the fact that her grief is, in large part, for the future they would never have the opportunity to share. Moreover, the relationship she strikes up with Liam, an Irish TV actor hiding away in tiny Oakville to escape problems of his own back in Dublin, is shockingly unromantic. Both Leah and Liam are at difficult stages of their life, but the purely physical companionship they find in one another quickly spirals out of control. Although neither of them want another relationship - and reiterate that their interactions are strictly temporary - they nevertheless feel very real, especially as what was meant to be un-complicated becomes increasingly complex over time.

Martin, however, never compromises Leah or Liam's troubles for the sake of the other. Neither is able to provide the comfort or support the other needs, emotionally or mentally, which makes what they share so much rawer and difficult to place a label upon. It isn't a classic tale of a broken hero and heroine who find it in themselves to reach out and heal one another. Instead, the relationship between Liam and Leah remains one of friendship and intimacy, but of a distant kind as neither is ready for something more "real". While the novel is narrated from Leah's perspective, though, it is impossible not to feel strangely close to Liam. Granted, these two lack the familiarity of sharing a bathroom cabinet or knowing how the other feels from their tone of voice, but the glimpses of hurt and pain they release to one another are all the more revealing. And despite the fact that Liam is upfront about his personality, honest that he isn't the nicest of guys, his charm and troubles never fail to work in his favor (which really just means that yes, his accent is alluring, and yes, his looks are even more killer).

Come See About Me has, surprisingly, filled the long-time hole inside of me that has been craving for something more. I've been feeling unfulfilled as a reader off-late, but this novel depicts life, friendships, relationships, and growth in a light that isn't always neat or clean or easy, but rather one that is far less pretentious and rewarding. Moreover, I adore its ending; open, but with just enough temporary closure to satisfy readers who shy away from non-endings. Although this is only my first Martin novel, her richly depicted characterizations and beautiful prose will keep me coming back for more. For anyone who doesn't love a book placed in a tidy box and tied up with a fancy ribbon, this one is for you.

Review: Blackmoore by Julianne Donaldson

Title: Blackmoore: A Proper Romance

Author: Julianne Donaldson

Rating: 4.5 Stars

All Kate has ever wanted is to visit Blackmoore, the stunning mansion by the sea where her best friends, Sylvia and Henry, spend their summers. Filled with secret passages, a quaint village nearby, and rumors of smugglers, Blackmoore is every bit the adventure that bookworm Kate desires. Thus, when she is finally invited to visit, she expects her trip to be everything she imagined - and more. Sadly, reality is rarely ever as wonderful and Kate, hoping Blackmoore will be an escape from the cage she finds herself trapped in at home, realizes that her cage has followed her, molding around her once again in Blackmoore, only with a slightly different shape. Proud, stubborn Kate who has refused to marry, planning to travel to India instead, soon finds herself - and her heart - at mercy in Blackmoore which will, undoubtedly, change her life.

With a title like Blackmoore: A Proper Romance, the love story in this novel is, naturally, of central focus. Kate and Henry have known each other since childhood and, as the years have gone by, their friendly affection has deepened considerably. With Henry set-up to marry the elegant and beautiful Juliet St. Claire, however, and with Kate's burden of family scandal, their match is anything but acceptable. Although I truly enjoyed this forbidden aspect to their romance arc - the constant obviousness of feeling on both sides but the tension built-up through constant denial - the true beauty in their relationship stems from their deep friendship.

What I love most about the romance between Kate and Henry is that it relies on a foundation of deep respect. Although Henry desires for Kate to stay close to him, at least to remain as a friend, he understands her ambitions of traveling, seeking a life of adventure, and escaping the gilded cage she has grown up in. Unlike most arrogant heroes, Henry never uses his money or power to coerce Kate into sacrificing her dreams for his. Donaldson manages to create an addicting, steamy romance in which the relationship dynamics are respectful of boundaries, understanding of happiness, and selfless in their love. It's a lovely arc to read, primarily because of these qualities. Just the friendship between these two will have you sighing blissfully, even when romance is far out of the picture, which in my eyes speaks far more to the strength of the bond these two characters share than anything else.

Nevertheless, while I admit candidly that the romantic tension in this novel reached out into my chest and twisted my heart rather painfully, what made this novel such a gem was the complex growth Kate experiences. As a woman in the 1900s, with societal expectations of marriage, it is difficult enough to forge a path veering off the typical course. As a woman with few prospects, a despicable upbringing, and a truly scandalous family, it is practically impossible. Kate resorts to extreme decisions to escape the cage she finds herself in as she desperately tries to convince her mother to let her travel to India with her spinster Aunt Charlotte. Kate's predicament truly hits home as we see her attempt to fulfill ridiculous bargains, despite the fact that she is well-educated, reasonable, and clever. As Kate struggles to find what she wants - from both herself and her future - the possibilities seem both endless and limiting. Kate undergoes many subtle epiphanies throughout her growth arc, from the realization that her expectations have never lived up to reality to the fact that much of what she thought was true is, in fact, incorrect. Yet, there is in inner layer to the cage that traps Kate and while she struggles to let loose the outer shells of society, family, and duty, the inner-most layer that she has self-imposed is the hardest to break out of.

While Blackmoore is an excellent novel, through-and-through, a reasonable amount of flaws stood out to me throughout the narrative. Most glaring is the fact that Kate's mother is incredibly vapid and cruel, a married woman who flirts with younger men constantly and encourages her daughters to secure marriages by compromising their virtues. Although I do not doubt the existence of such a mother, I found it difficult to believe that she was quite as evil as she was painted to be. If we had been offered a peek into her past or at least insight into her other personas, perhaps I would have felt more comfortable with her stark black-and-white portrayal but, alas, I was not. Additionally, I feel as if Donaldson ends this novel - almost - a little too soon. It is such a quick and convenient ending, avoiding the messiness of the situation Kate finds herself in. Moreover, it glosses over the immense growth arc Henry experiences, which I found to be fascinating. I would have loved for greater insight into the next chapter in Henry and Kate's life - just a glimpse, that's all.

Needless to say, I loved Blackmoore despite its flaws. Donaldson's prose paints a stunning gothic mansion as the setting of this romantic tale, alive with complex relationships, intriguing guests, and hidden secrets. It's no Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights, but it isn't meant to be. No, Blackmoore is the type of novel for which a few uninterrupted hours need to be scheduled. It demands to be read in a single-sitting, eating up time with its page-count and stress with its tension levels. While Donaldson's debut still doesn't appeal to me - it seems far too tame in comparison to the dark quality of this piece - I will certainly be looking out for any and all of her future works. Any author for whom I'd ignore piles of homework for on a busy weekday night is automatically worth it.

Review: Spark by Amy Kathleen Ryan

Title: Spark (Sky Chasers, #2) 

Author: Amy Kathleen Ryan 

Rating: 4.5 Stars

After Glow ripped my heart out, leaving me an emotional wreck, you’d think I’d have been a little more hesitant to crack open the spine of Spark. Not at all. I dove into this novel the first chance I had and refused to emerge until it was over, its last page taunting me with its promise of the “thrilling conclusion” to come Summer 2013. (Needless to say, that last page is a liar as Flame releases January 7^th, 2014. I still cannot believe it had the audacity to throw into my face the fact that I still need to wait two months to find out what happens to these characters…two months!) Despite the stunning non-ending of Spark, leaving us on the precipice of immense change for the characters we’ve grown to hate and love, this vicious cliffhanger did, in no way, diminish my love for the novel as a whole. Avoiding Middle Book Syndrome spectacularly, Spark proves to be even more of a mind-fuck than its predecessor ever was.

A month after the events of Glow, Seth still remains a prisoner in the brigs, Kieran the unlawful and un-elected Captain of the Empyrean, and Waverly the girl who left the adults behind on the New Horizon. Although the girls are finally back on the Empyrean, the tension has only escalated, causing Kieran to accelerate the rate of the ship and make frantic contact with Anne Mather to negotiate for the release of their parents. Then, a strange explosion occurs on the Empyrean, freeing Seth from his prison and making him the most obvious suspect. As the crew members soon discover, though, there is a New Horizon terrorist aboard the Empyrean. If that weren’t terrifying enough, Kieran has become consumed by his hunger for control, assuming the role of a dictator Waverly despises and vehemently opposes. As the Empyrean slowly tears itself apart from the inside, will they ever get the adults back? Or are they doomed to fall to the New Horizon…again?

While the events of Spark never take place on the New Horizon, it is a scarier novel for it. Waverly, expecting to be safely back home on the Empyrean, finds her fiancée a changed man and the girls she worked to rescue an ungrateful lot. Thus, suffering under the trauma of her experiences on the New Horizon, the psychological damage slowly begins to grate. While Waverly attempts to create a democratic system of government aboard the Empyrean, lashing out at Kieran’s dictator behavior and vouching for the innocence of Seth, the vessel of the Empyrean becomes a battleground to win supporters. Team Waverly or Team Kieran?

In many ways, this is a political struggle. It is evident to the crew that there will no longer be a wedding between Waverly and Kieran, but choosing between both stubborn individuals is a trial as well. And in politics, nothing is quite fair, just as corruption – of morals, of policies, of people – is at large. Moreover, the savageness of these children comes to light as they slowly destroy one another, their “leaders”, and their hope of survival. It is a brutal, horrible mess, reminding me of what the Hunger Games would have been like if, instead of arrows and knives, the weapons were vitriol and sarcasm. Ryan never bothers to shield her younger audience from these atrocities – which is refreshing. All too often, the plot or scope of a novel will demand difficult decisions that are withheld for the sake of the genre or marketing schemes, but Ryan never hesitates to unearth these realities.

While Waverly is fighting her own inner – and outer – battle, struggling to take some control of a ship where Kieran rules, all while trying not to break down and lose her sanity, Kieran becomes increasingly unstable. Although he is still quick-thinking and intelligent, the religion he raises and his biased policies make him our new “villain.” Of course, there still remains so much gray matter when it comes to Kieran. We know what he’s been through and in an effort to contain hundreds of people – and meet their expectations – he resorts to cruelty. None of the situations these teens are placed in are easy, which make the tough decisions they take all the more plausible – and even forgiving. It is a double-edged sword, one that is difficult to think through. Are there even any villains on these ships anymore? I don’t know, which is both a scary thought and an intriguing one.

While Seth never had a voice in Glow, he does in Spark which is an essential – and smart – tactical decision. As each of these perspectives remains in the third-person, there is no trouble discerning them from one another and I found Seth’s musings to be most interesting. After all the mistakes Seth committed in Glow, I find he is perhaps the most sane and morally correct individual in Spark. Unlike Waverly, Kieran, or the masses of secondary characters, he doesn’t seek to undermine, overthrow, or regain power. Instead, his sole goal is to redeem himself in the eyes of the Empyrean crew and, in particular, Waverly. While the romance in this novel is contained – easily – within a handful of lines, the affection Seth feels for Waverly is palpable, especially as it is in stark contrast with Kieran’s feelings. Although the relationship between Seth and Waverly is subtle, practically non-existent to a large degree, their friendship and understanding goes a long way.

Spark is not a romance, but the small inclusion of true fondness hidden under all the savagery of these survivors was a pleasant glimmer of hope. Even the few tight friendships, the slow build-up of trust, and even the growth – psychological growth that led to a greater understanding of oneself – was written with feeling. While Spark is a more political, thought-provoking installment than its predecessor – and a stronger novel to be sure – this series as a whole is flawless, despite the flaws of its cast. I adore Ryan’s exploration of ambiguous morality throughout these books and for perhaps the first time, I truly cannot predict a single event in Flame. Will everyone continue to turn against one another, or will they finally band together? Who knows? After all, humanity has never been predictable.